


Room to breathe

by felixfvlicis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, HP: EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9303305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixfvlicis/pseuds/felixfvlicis
Summary: More than anything, Draco wants to save Harry from himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS.
> 
> Unbeta'd. Inspired by Lauv's _'Breathe'_. Written for [hogwarts365](http://hogwarts365.livejournal.com/)'s prompt 174 over @ LJ.
> 
> Visit my [LiveJournal](http://felixfvlicis.livejournal.com/) for a complete list of works.
> 
> Comments are ♥.

Afternoon sky melted into evening’s embrace, navys and plums tangling themselves in the depths of the ink-black sky, mimicking the flow of Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch robes, tented by the airy atmosphere, their majesty lingering long after a match ended, nostalgic and elusive.

 

Harry sat on the Grand Staircase of Hogwarts, his back stilled against the vast beauty behind him.  Amidst the ghostly whispers enveloping him, a ribbon of ash settled against his cheek, murdering his nostalgia, damning his happiness, however brief.

 

A moment passed before Draco joined him, pressed thigh to ankle, pliant.  The coaxed whisper of Ignorance brushed against their collarbones, desperate for that all-too-elusive feeling of happiness, skimming above the clouds, weightless, free - the morning scents of fresh dew, drops of honey flush against blades of grass, Harry and Draco lying in the bed of lilies down by the water’s edge, Narcissa’s careful, melodic whisper warming Draco’s chilled skin.

 

*******

 

“I can’t do this, Draco.”

 

“I know.”

 

It hurt to breathe.  The weight of the Elder Wand heavy between them.

 

“Go on, Draco,”  Harry begged, through jagged breaths, holding his broken sobs captive, the light in his eyes extinguished.  He could see Draco’s hand trembling around the wand.  An unfocused aim wouldn’t do.  He needed the smallest push.  “Now.”  A silent apology lingered against his lashes, before tumbling from his eyes, its life severed just as it reached Draco’s skin.

 

_“Obliviate.”_

 

Harry’s rigid body vanished from the staircase as Draco was wracked with sobs, mourning the loss of Harry’s strength, his sheer force of will.  Mourning the only person he’d ever truly loved.

 

*******

 

“There’s an art to letting go, my sweet boy,” Narcissa whispered, her toes pointed toward the pond’s edge in the Manor gardens, just as summer kissed her pale skin, reviving her warm, youthful glow.

 

Draco stomped his feet, his body shuddering with sniffles as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

 

“But, mum, he loved me enough, didn’t he?  Why did he run away?”

 

“Of _course_ he loved you, sweetheart.”

 

The unanswered _why_ vibrated in his ears, Harry’s scent enveloping his eardrum, thrashing against his temple, its screams muffled by violent winds of heartbreak, elusive evermore.


End file.
